s others knew me too--all I
loved and cared for), still my purity was shocked by such injustice.
I felt like one who had gone out to walk in fresh attire, and been
mud-pelted by rude urchins, so that the outward robes, at least, were
soiled, and a sense of degradation and uncleanness became the
consequence in spite of reason. But, after all, the dress could be
easily changed when opportunity should occur, and all be made clean
again, and the mud-pelting forgotten or overlooked, and the urchins
punished or dismissed in scorn.
Surely, God would not much longer permit this fiend to subjugate me. Had
I not suffered sufficiently? Alas! who but our Creator can judge of our
deserts, or measure our power to bear?
In my adversity and lonely trouble I had drawn near to Him and his
blessed Son--our Mediator, and example, and only strength. Dear as was
still the memory of that earthly love, the only real passion I had ever
known, could ever know, it came no longer to my spirit as a substitute
for religion. I had learned to separate my worship of God from my fealty
to man, yet was this last not weakened, but strengthened, by such
discrimination.
If only for the gift of grace it brought to we, let me bless my sad
captivity!
CHAPTER XI.
The dreary days rolled on; the health of Mrs. Clayton declined so
rapidly that a small stove was found necessary to the comfort of her
contracted bedroom, which freed me from the unpleasant necessity of her
actual presence. The stocking-basket was set aside, the gingerbread nuts
were neglected, and the noise of constant crunching, as of bones, came
no more from my dragon's den; nor yet the smell of Stilton cheese and
porter, wherewith she had so frequently regaled herself and nauseated me
between-meals, and in the night-season. I used to call her a chronic
eater--a symptom, I believe, of the worst sort of dyspepsia, as well as
too often its occasion.
I prefer, myself, the Indian notion of eating, seldom, and enough at a
time. After all, is there any despot equal to the stomach and its
requisitions? What an injustice it seems to all the rest of the organs,
the royal brain especially, that this selfish, sensual sybarite should
exact tribute, and even enforce concession, whenever denied its
customary demands!
There are human beings, the poor of the earth, as we know, who pass
their whole lives, merge their immortal souls in ministering to its
absolute necessities, who go cold, i
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